


Spellbound

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abortion Attempt, Alternate Universe, Dean is twelve, Dubious Consent, Extremely Underage, Fertility spell, First Time, Impregnation, Love Spell, M/M, Magic, Magic Made Them Do It, Mpreg, On Hiatus, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sam is seven, Soul Bond, Teen Pregnancy, Touching
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-02
Updated: 2015-12-26
Packaged: 2018-04-29 14:04:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5130365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean was twelve when he found the book. He hadn’t even meant to go snooping through his Dad’s stuff, but he’d been bored and kind of itchy, and the last time he’d felt like this, a women’s lingerie catalog he’d found had come a long way in helping.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please heed the warnings!
> 
> This could be multi-chaptered, if I get inspired enough.

Dean was twelve when he found the book. He hadn’t even meant to go snooping through his Dad’s stuff, but he’d been bored and kind of itchy, and the last time he’d felt like this, a women’s lingerie catalog he’d found had come a long way in helping.

Dean knew that his Dad had some dirty magazines hidden away in his bags; he’d seen them once. But what he found instead was an old leather-bound book that made his hand tingle. “Cool,” he breathed. He glanced at the door guiltily. He knew better than to play around with his Dad’s hunter stuff like this, after all, a lot of it was really dangerous. 

Still he couldn’t help but flick through the pages. It was just to see what it was, he told himself, he wasn’t doing any harm in just looking. The moment his eyes fell on the Latin words written in what looked like handwriting, he was hooked. He knew some of them, but was far from fluid, even though he practiced every day. That didn’t make him a geek, though. It wasn’t like doing schoolwork - this was important stuff, stuff that could save lives! 

With that in mind, Dean settled on the bed with his find, knowing that his Dad was out of town for at least another day. Through the half-open door, he could see Sammy in the other room, sleeping. He would just see of he could learn anything new and then he’d put it back with no-one being the wiser. 

Dean began to read. After a few sentences, he frowned. This was nothing like the exorcisms and incantations he’d seen before. He only understood about one word in five, but even so it quickly dawned on him that this was no ordinary book.

The words almost seemed to move out from the page, and, his eyes riveted on the page, Dean mouthed them softly: “I nunc amit me te amare simul lorem ipsum dolor sit amet you and i quoque sicerit in me ex caritate.“ A pulse went through him, making him gasp, and then... 

Nothing. 

Heart pounding in his chest, Dean slapped the book closed. What he’d just done had been incredibly stupid and if his father could see him now, he’d slap him across the room. „Stupid magic,“ he murmured, shoving the book back into the bag he’d found it in. 

„Dean? What’re you doing?“

Dean whirled around. Sammy stood in the doorway, rubbing his eyes with his fist. 

“Nothing.” Dean walked over and ushered his brother back into their room. “I was just checking something in Dad’s room. Why aren’t you sleeping?”

Sammy clambered up on the bed. “I woke up ‘cause I felt funny.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Did ya get into the cookies again, Sammy? ‘Cause I’m not cleaning it up if ya gotta yack.”

But Sammy was shaking his head. “Not funny like that. More like, itchy. It kind of hurts, Dee.”

Concerned now, Dean sat beside his baby brother. Checking his forehead told him nothing, and besides a slight flush, Sammy looked normal. “Where does it hurt? Your head?”

“No…” The color in Sam’s cheeks darkened. With a start, Dean realized that his brother was _blushing_. “Down there…:”

Startled, Dean looked down, expecting to see Sammy point to his belly. Instead, that small finger pointed directly at his privates. Dean gulped. Where normally there should be, well, _nothing_ , the thin cotton of Sammy’s ratty pajamas was visibly tented. 

“Um,” Dean said. Wasn’t Sammy way too young for this?

“Dee?” Sammy asked, a tremble in his voice. “Is it bad? Am I gonna die?”

Running a shaking hand through his hair, Dean’s eyes flitted around the room desperately. “Uh, no, Sammy. You’re not gonna die, it’s nothing, uh, _bad_ exactly.”

“But it hurts, Dee.”

Dean bit back a groan. In that moment, he desperately wished for Dad to be here. He felt way out of his league with this – he had _just_ started to figure this stuff out himself, and now he was supposed to coach his seven-year-old brother? “Yeah,” he grunted, scooting back on the bed. “It’s normal, Sammy, nothing to worry about. It’ll probably go away by itself if you ignore it.”

Sammy looked doubtful. His bewildered eyes alternately flicked down to his lap and up at Dean’s face. 

“Why don’t you lie down and try to get back to sleep, hm?” Dean tried to sound convincing.

“’kay.” Sam gave him a trusting little smile and slipped back under the covers. “I love you, Dee.”

“Yeah,” Dean grunted, lips quirking in pleased amusement. It had been a while since Sam had felt the need to say that. “You too, kiddo.”

As he shuffled into the bathroom, his gaze fell onto the bag in which he’d stuffed the book and a cold shiver ran down his back. Quickly, he changed into his pajamas and brushed his teeth, all the while doing his best not to think about the spell he’d inadvertently spoken.

Nothing had happened yet, so he figured he was in the clear. Still it took him a long while to fall asleep.

 

\---**---

“Deaaan…”

Startling awake, Dean pulled in a sharp breath. His mind was foggy and so it took him a moment to realize that a warm bundle was burrowing under his blanket. “Hngh, Sammy…?” he croaked. “What’cha doing?”

“It hurts, Dean.” He had never heard his brother sound like that – desperate and needy, voice breathy. “Hurts real bad… please, can’t you help, Dee?” While he was speaking, Sammy cuddled closer and before Dean could react, his baby brother was pressing the hard ridge of his erection against his leg. 

“Oh,” Sammy moaned and it sounded so _wrong_ coming from him. 

“Jesus!” Dean flinched away. “Sammy – shit, stop it!”

Sam didn’t. He didn’t even seem to hear him. Instead, he began to move in a very suggestive rhythm, basically humping Dean’s leg like a dog in heat. “Oh… s’good,” he slurred. “Uh. Uh, Dee…”

It absolutely shouldn’t have been anything remotely close to sexy. This was his baby brother getting off right in front of him, hazel eyes slitted underneath soft bangs. Dean watched him with wide eyes and to his consternation, he found himself responding to the sight and feel of Sammy against him. 

A soft moan spilled from his lips and warmth began to pool in his groin. He was hardening quickly. “Sammy,” he groaned.

“Oh,” Sam was moving faster and faster. “Oh. Oh. Uhh… uh. Uh.”

Incredibly turned on, Dean threw caution to the wind. After all, it had been Sammy that had come to him – who was he to refuse a bit of free humping? With a desperate little growl, he grabbed Sammy around the waist and pulled him up so that he came to lie on top of him. 

Sammy keened at the change, his small hands grabbing hold of Dean’s sleepshirt. “Oh! Wha…? Dee…?”

“Yeah,” Dean groaned, settling that small, warm body to his liking. One of his hands stroked down Sammy’s back and landed on his tiny butt. “Move, Sammy. Come on.”

After a small moment of hesitation, Sam did. They both moaned as their erections came in contact with each other’s. Sammy’s much smaller one still felt pretty nice and the moment his brother began to jerk his hips again, Dean let out a snarl. It felt so good even through the twin layers of cotton separating them. Sammy’s gentle weight on top of him was a definite turn-on, and the heat and delicious friction had Dean panting in no time.

Face pressed into his neck, Sammy whimpered desperate sounds against his skin. Dean took a firm hold of his brother’s buttocks and, with gentle force, he began to guide Sammy into a wonderful, deep rhythm. His own hips joined the quick jerks and soon the flimsy bed was moving in time with them.

“Oh… oh, oh! Oh! Dean…” He almost didn’t recognize Sammy’s voice like this, guttural and full of desperate need. 

“Yesss,” he hissed in answer. As if in a trance, he let one of his hands creep up and pressed his fingers into the bit of warm skin above Sammy’s waistband. From there, it was only a tiny motion to let them slip under and down over the soft swell of Sammy’s ass. 

His brother shuddered above him and the moment his hand mad contact with his ass, Sammy squealed. Eyes wide as saucers, Sammy threw his head back and shook against him in silent tremors of ecstasy. A moment later, his brother collapsed against him, keening softly under his breath.

Dean felt the tingle start to gather in his spine, heat racing through him. He was so close that even without the stimulation of their mutual movements, he could feel himself teeter right at the edge. 

Almost there… almost… 

With a deep, heartfelt groan, he pressed his dick hard into Sammy’s soft belly and – acting on instinct – he pressed his finger in between those smooth globes. His index finger searched and found that one place, stroking over that tiny puckered opening. 

Dean panted in need, feeling his balls draw up. 

Almost… 

And then the very tip of his finger found purchase and slipped inside. Sammy flinched against him in reaction, murmuring a soft, uncertain “Dean?” and that was that. Frantic pleasure swept over him, stealing his vision as his cock throbbed and jerked wetly underneath Sammy’s weight, soaking both their pajamas with the evidence of his release. 

“Fuck…” Dean croaked as the hot waves finally subsided. 

Sammy had burrowed into him, clinging to him like a limpet. “Dean…” he whined. To his horror, Dean realized that his baby brother sounded close to tears. “What _was_ that? It-it hurt…” The last word almost got stolen by a sob.

Dean swallowed hard. “Shhh, Sammy, calm down,” he murmured. “It was just an orgasm, okay? Pretty normal stuff for a guy.” His heart raced, even as he tried to sound calm. Judging by Sammy’s reaction, it was as if the boy had been forced into what they’d just done. 

His own first, mostly dry, wet dream had been awesome and he’d loved the new feelings sweeping through him. But then, he’d been eleven when that happened, not seven like Sam was. 

Holding his brother tight, Dean slowly sat up. He winced at the feel of wet, cooling fabric separating from his sensitive dick. “It’s okay, Sam-I-Am,” he said, cradling his brother’s face so that their eyes could meet. “No need to be upset. We’ll just forget this happened, yeah?”

Sniffling, Sammy nodded. He was blushing and squirmed a little in Dean’s hold. As he let him go, the boy scrambled up and off the bed and vanished into the bathroom. A moment later, Dean heard the shower come on.

With a groan, he slumped back onto the bed. There was a certain feeling in his gut, one that he knew all too well. Somehow, he was responsible for what had just happened and he had a suspicion that it had to do with a certain book. 

Still, maybe this had just been a one-time thing and now that it was out of their system, it would just go away.

As he lay there, he listened to the gentle sounds of water droplets hitting his brother’s body, and it was then that Dean felt the first tendrils of renewed interest gathering in his groin. With a dismayed groan, he threw himself onto his side, resolutely ignoring his torturous body.

“It’ll go away,” he whispered under his breath. It just had to.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guilt stabbed Dean in the gut. He had done this. Somehow, the spell he’d spoken had changed the two of them, had made him into someone who couldn’t even control himself around his own brother.

The next couple of weeks, there weren’t any strange things happening. Dean kept a close eye on Sammy at first, but aside from a little awkwardness around him, he seemed fine. But it was only after his Dad returned from his hunting trip that Dean fully dared to relax. 

Whatever had overcome Sammy that night after Dean had spoken the spell seemed to have dissipated, and having Dad around to draw Sammy’s wrath was a definite bonus. Whatever hesitation towards Dean had remained on his little brother’s part did take a backseat as soon as Dad started barking orders. 

So it was almost a month later that Dean found himself lying in a tiny cot in a cabin located deep in the North Maine Woods. Sammy’s cot was opposite his, and despite having been unusually twitchy that evening, he was now sleeping soundly. 

Dean sighed. Their Dad was out there hunting what appeared to be the spirit of a woodsman out for blood, and again he had been left behind to look after his little brother. It wasn’t that he blamed Sammy, not really, but sometimes he wished that he would hurry up growing up already. 

Being the youngest definitely had its advantages, Dean thought grimly. He couldn’t ever remember having been cut the same kind of slack that Sammy got on a regular basis.

Still, it wasn’t that he begrudged his brother his childhood. After all, even at twelve years old, he felt as if the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. He was jaded and disillusioned in a way that he never wanted Sammy to experience. 

His eyes had closed on his own account, and just as he was about to slip into sleep, he was pulled back to wakefulness by a sharp, cut-off sound. He lay stock-still and slowly lifted an eyelid a little, just enough to peer around the room without giving away that he was awake.

A moment later, he abruptly sat up. “Sam?” he grunted, blinking in the dim light. 

When he finally made out Sammy’s face, his stomach dropped. His little brother was standing beside his cot, illuminated only by the light of the moon coming through the window behind Dean. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes had a feverish sheen to them that Dean didn’t like at all. “What’s wrong?”

“I-it burns, D-Dee.” There were a few tears now running down Sam’s round cheeks. He’d balled his hands into fists and was rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet, as if unable to keep still. 

Gulping, Dean looked down. Again, Sam’s soft sleep-pants were noticeably tented and his tiny rocking motions mimicked a very familiar rhythm. Dean felt heat run through him. Despite himself, he was hardening quickly, arousal tingling through his veins like quicksilver. 

Sense-memory told him exactly how Sammy’s small body would feel on top of his, and it was all he could do not to pull his brother onto the cot with him. He had sworn himself that nothing like this would ever happen again, and he was determined to honor his oath. 

He moaned softly and squeezed his eyes shut in the hopes of calming himself. “You gotta take care of yourself, Sammy,” he bit out gruffly. “Just, y’know, touch it until it goes away, okay?”

Sam whimpered a little. “I… I don’t k-know how,” he finally whispered.

Dean groaned in dismay. “Just rub it, Sam, up and down,” he snapped. “Jesus Christ, you’re such a baby sometimes, don’t you know anything?” He opened his eyes again to glare at his baby brother and that was his mistake. Because Sammy was looking at him with such hurt swimming in his huge hazel eyes that Dean’s throat closed up.

More tears spilled over and Sammy’s face was filled with a mix of pain and fear as he slowly took a step back, away from Dean. As he did, he stumbled and crashed down onto the ground hard. A distraught sob escaped him and he sounded so lost that even his Dad couldn’t have stopped Dean from moving.

He was out of the bed and beside Sammy in a flash. “Shh, it’s okay, Sammy,” he crooned as he gathered his brother up in his arms. “Don’t cry, sh, I’m sorry.”

“Dean,” Sammy whimpered, snuggling into him. His face was pressed into Dean’s throat and his breath warmed his skin. 

Dean shuddered. Fully intent on giving Sam a nudge in the right direction and then letting him take care of himself, he carried Sam over to the couch. It was an old one – huge and so soft that it attempted to swallow everyone that dared to sit on it. 

That was why Dean lost his balance as he plopped down on it and despite his best efforts, Sammy landed right smack on top of him. His dick jumped at the contact and his eyes rolled back a little, it felt so good.

Sam seemed to like it too. He had calmed down as soon as Dean had picked him up. He now lay on him as if he’d never wanted anything else. His eyes were heavy-lidded and he moved gently, tiny rocking motions that mimicked what they’d done that first fateful night. 

Dean felt like he was on fire. He was rock-hard, and he wanted nothing more than to give in to the desperate urge to take his pleasure in Sam. After all, he thought fervently, it was his goddamn right! Sammy was his in every aspect – his to love and fuck, to cherish and to dominate and he’d be damned if he would let anyone else ever have him!

A fever seemed to take a hold of him. Dean bared his teeth, and unable to stop himself, he turned them so that he hovered over Sam’s smaller form. “Mine,” he growled, pulling down his brother’s flimsy shirt-collar. 

Sammy gave a breathy moan and bared his smooth neck to him. “Dean,” he breathed.

Swooping in, Dean pressed his lips into his brother’s skin, sucking hard. He didn’t care that he was bruising Sam’s fair skin, the only thing on his mind was to claim him, to make sure that everybody knew who Samuel Winchester belonged to.

Sammy trembled underneath him. His fingers were clenched into Dean’s shirt and he had thrown his head back and was staring at the ceiling, panting open-mouthed.

Lust crashed into Dean like a tidal wave, and he practically ripped the clothes off of them. Sam let it all happen. He didn’t help with the undressing, but he didn’t protest either. He just watched everything Dean did with an intensity that was usually reserved for his schoolbooks.

Dean hissed in relief as his erection was finally freed, bouncing up and standing straight, he was so hard. He murmured, “You’re mine, Sammy,” and grabbed his brother’s hand, pressing it against his dick. “See what you do to me?”

“It’s b-big.” Sam looked his age as he stared at Dean’s hardness, innocence and need warring with each other. He didn’t seem to know what to do with his handful of cock, but Dean didn’t care. He was so turned on that his tip was slick with pre-come as he rocked into the light hold. 

It wasn’t enough for long, though, and with a desperate groan, Dean grabbed Sammy and placed him right smack in the middle of the couch, making him lose his grip. He parted the small boys legs and lowered himself down in between them. He let out sounds that were somewhere between growls and moans as he pressed their naked bodies together for the first time. 

Sammy keened. He sounded overwhelmed and frantic, unable to cope with the feelings that Dean elicited in him. “Dee,” he groaned as Dean reached down between their bodies and grabbed his brother’s little erection. “Ohhh! Dee—uh-nhh…”

Dean sneered. “Like that, Sammy, huh?” He curled his fingers and worked the soft skin of his brother’s rock-hard cock as if he’d never done anything else. “Yeah. Feel that? It’s good, huh?”

“Unh,” Sam moaned, spreading his legs and pushing his hips into Dean’s grip. “Uh. Uh—oh—“

Dean shivered. This was quickly getting out of control, but for the life of him, he couldn’t remember why it had been a bad idea in the first place. All he felt was the hot throbs of arousal going through him as he greedily watched Sam’s every reaction. 

“Fuck, Sammy,” he groaned, pushing his leaking cock down into Sammy’s soft belly. The friction was good, but not nearly enough. 

Licking his finger, he brought it down quickly, down to where his greedy gaze rested. He knew exactly what he wanted, and his pulsing cock knew it too. Before the spit had a chance to dry, Dean pressed the tip of his finger into the smooth, pink little hole of Sam’s ass and pushed inside. 

Sam tensed, his eyes growing big under his bangs. “Dean? I d-don’t… uh, I don’t think…uh…”

“Jus’ relax,” Dean slurred, drunk with these new feelings coursing through him. “’S gonna feel so good.” More than anything else in his life, he wanted - no, _needed_ to be inside Sammy. He pushed a second finger in, ignoring his brother’s confused squawk, and before he knew it, he had picked up Sammy’s legs behind the knees and had placed himself in the perfect position.

He looked into Sam’s eyes, seeing a sort of hazy, confused need in them, and then he pressed inside. The moment he pushed into Sam, something fundamentally within Dean changed. 

Heat enveloped him and he cried out in pleasure, even as his heart tightened and then expanded and suddenly, he and Sam were one. He could feel what Sam was feeling, knew the pain of this first penetration like his own. He was taking and giving, both at the same time, and every jolt of his hips, he felt in his own ass. 

It was an exquisite mix of ecstasy and discomfort and he couldn’t help but chase more of both. He pushed harder, faster, giving himself over to the intensity of the moment and when he finally careened over the edge, he rammed himself into Sam’s pliant body and spilled his essence as deep as he could, feeling the heat explode in himself. His eyes rolled back and he cried out with each sharp pulse, the pleasure-pain feedback loop so acute he almost lost consciousness.

When he came back to himself, he was still throbbing in post-orgasmic bliss. His dick was still buried deep in his little brother’s limp body and he felt as if he’d just run a marathon. 

“Sam,” he croaked, shifting back a little. In his eagerness, he’d pushed Sammy’s legs so far back that they almost rested beside his ears. “Shit”, he murmured, fear gripping him when there was no immediate response. “Sammy!”

“Dean.” 

The word was a faint whisper, but Dean sagged in relief. “Jesus, Sammy,” he grumbled, trying for normalcy, even as his heart hammered in his chest. “Don’t scare me like that.” He knew that he sounded gruffer than he’d intended, but he couldn’t help it. Every last bit of relaxation and rightness he’d felt after the amazing orgasm was now chased away by the cruel realization that he’d just effectively raped his baby brother. 

Even if Sammy didn’t really look traumatized. In fact, the only thing Dean saw on his little brother’s face was contentment, which was just so wrong to see on a seven year old who’d just been fucked and filled with his brother’s come. He wasn’t hard anymore either, despite the fact that Dean hadn’t touched him at all. It was as if Dean’s pleasure had been enough for him.

Guilt stabbed Dean in the gut. He had done this. Somehow, the spell he’d spoken had changed the two of them, had made him into someone who couldn’t even control himself around his own brother. And Sam had become this - this kid who got hard-ons that wouldn’t leave him alone until he did things he was not prepared for.

“Are you hurtin’?” He murmured, feeling ridiculous even asking. He tried to be gentle as he pulled out, but Sammy whimpered anyway. 

“’m fine,” he murmured though, reaching for Dean even as watery cum trickled out of him. “Love you.”

Dean flinched as if shot. It was almost physically painful to hear that after what he’d just done. Unable to meet his brother’s gaze, he lowered his head to Sammy’s chest and rested it there. Immediately, a small hand found its way into his hair and stroked it gently.

All of a sudden, Dean was exhausted. Unable to pull himself away, he lay there, cradled in the arms of his baby brother, and tried not to cry.

 

\---**---

 

“Singer.”

Dean ignored the sudden sting of tears as the familiar gruff voice finally answered. “B-Bobby,” he stammered into the phone. “Bobby, I need h-help.”

“Dean? That you?”

“Yeah,” Dean sniffed and rubbed the back of his hand roughly over his face. “I did somethin’ stupid, Bobby, and I can’t tell Dad.”

Bobby cleared his throat. “I’m sure whatever ya did isn’t as big of a deal as ya think it is, son.”

Dean snorted. He glanced over at Sam, who had curled up into a tiny ball and was pretending to be asleep. “Yeah, I’m not so sure about that,” he murmured and told Bobby the whole story.

When he was finished, there was silence on the other line. “Shit.” Dean heard then. “I hate to say it, but you’re a fucking idjit.”

Tears pricked at Dean’ eyes. “So it’s a spell?”

“Oh, it’s a love-spell all right, but way more than that. It’s powerful bonding magic, with a bit of fertility magic added to the mix, just to make it interesting.”

Dean gasped. “Fertility…?”

“Yeah.” Bobby sounded grim. “I’ve heard of spells like this being used for arranged marriages, to ensure, uh, consummation. I take it you and Sam…?”

Biting back a terrified sob, Dean curled around the phone. “I f-fucked him, Bobby. I couldn’t stop myself. Oh god, what if he’s--“ he couldn’t even continue the sentence.

“There’s no way to know right now, Dean. He’s seven years old and a _boy_ for crying out loud. I’m pretty sure not even this spell is strong enough to beat these odds.” 

But there was enough doubt in Bobby’s gruff voice that Dean’s heart sank. He looked over to where Sammy was totally engrossed in his math homework and swallowed hard. “I don’t know what to do,” he whispered.

“Don’t tell John yet.” 

Dean hesitated. On the one hand, there was a reason why he was phoning Bobby instead of waiting for Dad to come home, but every instinct he had screamed at him that he had to protect Sammy at all costs – even if he had to pay himself.

“Give me a few days to figure things out,” Bobby said gruffly. “And don’t let him move ya, I’m coming up.”

Dean almost collapsed in relief. It was strange to think of Bobby as their protector, but the man had always tried to do what was best for them, had looked out for them even if their own Dad didn’t. 

Murmuring a quick thanks, Dean hung up. Two days. He could do two days. 

On the other side of the room, trying to figure out his math problem, Sammy absently rubbed a hand over his lower belly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... so. Mpreg. Yes/No? I'm open to your opinion. :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite the fact that he’d spent basically his whole life worrying about the only parent the both of them had left, knowing that every day could end with him and Sammy being orphans, somehow that didn’t even compare to his bone-deep worry about his brother.

For a while after he hung up, Dean just sat there. To him, it was hard to imagine that a few weeks ago, his biggest concern had been when their Dad would come home and if he would finally get to try out the new shotgun. Somehow that seemed trivial now. Despite the fact that he’d spent basically his whole life worrying about the only parent the both of them had left, knowing that every day could end with him and Sammy being orphans, somehow that didn’t even compare to his bone-deep worry about his brother.

Maybe it was the fact that it had always been his job to look after him. The fact that not only had he failed to protect him, but that he even had been _responsible_ for harm coming to him… it sickened Dean in a way that even the thought of losing Dad couldn’t.

“I’m all done.”

Startled, Dean looked up. Sam stood before him, looking adorable in his too-large sweater that hung him almost to the knees. Dean frowned. That was _his_ sweater his brother was wearing!

“What’cha doing taking my stuff, Sammy?” he chastised mildly, tugging at one frayed sleeve. He wasn’t even really pretending to be annoyed. 

Sam shrugged. “I didn’t. It was on top of your bag and it looked comfy.” He then mumbled something that Dean couldn’t make out. 

“What was that?” he asked, grinning. 

Sammy shot him an annoyed look. “I said, that it smelled like you.”

The smile dropped off Dean’s face. He sighed heavily, but didn’t even think about pulling Sammy into his arms. He had never been overly touchy-feely, even with Sam, but now it was like he couldn’t stop himself. 

With a contented little mew, Sammy settled down on his lap, snuggling into him like a baby kitten. A while, they just sat there, holding each other. It felt right in a way that nothing in Dean’s life ever had before, even if a part of him screamed in protest. 

“Something’s wrong, isn’t it.” Sammy mumbled the words into Dean’s chest.

Dean pressed a kiss on the top of his head. “Yeah,” he admitted. “But Bobby’ll take care of it. Everything will be back to normal in no time, you’ll see.”

“But,” Sam looked up, “but what if I don’t want things to be the same?”

Dean froze. “What are you talking about?”

Sammy shrugged. He seemed to be a bit embarrassed, but ploughed through like the trooper he was. “It’s just… I like this.” He gestured between them. “We never used to snuggle like this. And I even like what, uh, what we - did. Y’know.”

Dean went hot, then cold, and then hot again. “Sammy…” he breathed. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

Sammy looked up at him A stubborn glint had entered his eyes and Dean swallowed. Hard. “I’m not some baby, Dean. I know what I want.”

Under normal circumstances, Dean would totally agree. Sam was a bright kid, almost scary-smart, and he’d never been timid about what he wanted. He stood up to Dad in a way that had Dean both cringe and want to applaud him. He soaked up knowledge like nobody’s business and was a bitch about it, too, sometimes.

So, at any other time, Dean probably would have taken him at his word. This, though, this was something completely different. How in the hell was he to explain to his seven year old brother that he had somehow enchanted them both to want each other? That they were _bonded_ now, for lack of a better term, and that nothing about this had to do with free will at all?

“You don’t know, Sammy.” He warded off his brother’s immediate protest. “You _can’t_ know and it’s got nothing to do with your age. One day, I’ll explain it to you, but for now, I need you to trust me.”

Sammy just looked at him, his expression not unlike the one he wore when someone tried to explain something to him that he already knew. “Of course I trust you. Always.” He craned his neck and pressed his soft lips firmly against Dean’s. The kiss was strange at first, a bit awkward even. But then Sam opened his mouth and Dean pressed forward, groaning a bit as he deepened the kiss. 

Just like that, with barely any provocation, he felt arousal sizzle down his spine and he was getting hard. In no time at all, his dick strained against the fabric of his denims, throbbing with interest as Sammy shifted on top of him. 

Dean swallowed a moan and wrenched his mouth away. “Sam. We can’t.” With all his might he tried to fight the desire threatening to overwhelm him. “It’s wrong.”

His eyes dark with need, Sammy shook his head. “I want to, Dee. I like making you feel good.” 

“Oh god…” Dean felt himself starting to shake and with a low groan, he took Sammy’s tempting mouth again. He loved the way his brother just melted into him, opening to him like a flower to the sun. 

Everything spiraled out of control then, just as it had all the times before. The next minutes were a haze of heated kissed, flailing limbs and ripping fabric, until finally, delicious friction stole Dean’s sanity with every urgent thrust. 

When he came back to himself, he was roaring out his orgasm, once again buried deep in Sammy’s body. Pulse after hot pulse went through him as he filled his baby brother with his come. 

Sam stared at him with a rapturous expression. He wasn’t even hard, Dean noted absently as he rocked through the last lustful throbs, finally stilling within the mewling seven year old.

“Fuck,” he moaned then, throat closing with dismayed tears. “Fuck, Sammy. We shouldn’t have done this. Jesus fuck.”

“You shouldn’t curse so much,” Sam said primly. It was a ridiculous thing to say, impaled as he was on his brother’s cock.

A new voice brought them up short. “Samuel. I need you to come to me. Now.”

Dean’s heart almost stopped. His head snapped around he stared at his Dad in horror. John’s expression was carefully neutral and he never even reached for the gun Dean knew to be in the holster under his jacket. But he was looking at Dean like he only ever looked at creatures and it terrified him.

“Dad--“

“Don’t.” John’s voice was hard. “Whatever you are, wearing my son’s face, I’m gonna make you regret ever having crossed paths with a Winchester.”

“Daddy! You’re back!” Sammy, for once oblivious to the tension, bounced happily as he saw their father standing in the doorway. Dean gasped and his eyes almost rolled back at the tight, hot friction, his balls pumping out a few last, weak spurts.

When he was aware enough again to focus on his Dad, Dean blanched. There was open disgust on his father’s face, mixed with a raw pain that Dean just knew was meant for him. 

Sammy looked back and forth between them. He didn’t even seem to be aware of the fact that there was anything wrong with him being in this position in front of Dad, but he did notice their strange behavior. He made as if to get up, but Dean quickly moved his hands to his hips to keep him there. 

Sam threw him a confused glance, but slumped back onto him without protest. Dean saw his Dad’s eyes narrow. Of course, the man was aware of the fact that Dean used his little brother as a sort of shield, even if for different reasons than the hunter thought. 

“Dad,” he croaked, ignoring John’s slight flinch. “Call Bobby. Please, Dad, just—call him. He knows what’s going on.”

There was a minute hesitation on John’s part, but then his lips hardened into a thin line. “I’m not falling for that. What are you anyway? Demon? Shapeshifter?”

Dean froze. Sammy was right there – he couldn’t believe that Dad would just spill the beans in front of him like this. “I’m none of those things,” he finally said, lowly. He’d seen Sammy’s eyes widen and then the boy clung to him like a limpet. It was clear to him that Sammy at least had some inkling into what Dad was saying.

He was desperate to make him see the truth, if only so that he could do some damage control with Sammy. “Call Bobby, Dad. I won’t move, and I won’t harm Sammy.”

After a long moment, John nodded. He kept a close eye on Dean, but there was something resembling doubt now visible on his rugged face. He crept over to the phone and dialed without ever letting Dean out of his sight. “Robert, it’s John. Dean tells me you know something about what’s going on here?” He listened intently. 

At one point, his eyes narrowed and he shot Dean a glare that almost seared his flesh off his bones. Ironically, that was the moment that Dean dared to finally breathe easy again. If Dad was furious with him about the spell, then at least he didn’t think he was a demon anymore. 

Carefully, he lifted Sammy off of him, using John’s distraction with what Bobby was telling him to surreptitiously clean up the evidence of his transgression. He grimaced as his own cooling spunk dripped down onto his bare thighs the moment he pulled his still half-hard dick out of Sam’s ass. His mind shied away from the implications of this, and he concentrated fully on his brother. “Come on. We’re gonna go shower.”

Sam’s face lit up. “Together?”

Dean snorted in helpless amusement. “Yeah, kiddo.”

“Awesome!” Sammy exclaimed, grabbing a hold of Dean’s hand to pull him towards the bathroom.

Throwing back a quick glance, Dean caught an odd expression on his Dad’s face, before the man turned his back to him. Sighing, he let himself be dragged away.

 

\---**---

 

To his surprise, Dad didn’t even mention his mishap. After their shower, Sammy had gotten away from him and ran out of the bathroom before he was even fully dressed. Dean really, _really_ wanted to linger, calling himself a coward for it.

Steeling himself, he went outside. 

Sammy was standing before their Dad, telling him excitedly about everything that had happened while he’d been away – thankfully omitting everything to do with their new… connection. 

John was sitting in the rickety old chair next to the phone. He looked old, all of a sudden, deep lines marring his face, even as a slight smile played around his lips as he watched Sammy.

Dean felt like crying. Even if he had somehow escaped a more violent reaction on John’s part, the fact remained that he had fucked up beyond anything he’d ever done, and he had no doubts about there being serious consequences. But for now, John seemed intent on ignoring the elephant in the room, and Dean was inclined to let him.

Together, they talked to Sammy about what had happened before, and Dean followed his father’s lead when the hunter shrugged off the whole thing as a result of a drunken night. It was a bit sad to see Sammy accept this so willingly – after all, it was no secret to him that John had a drinking problem that was only kept at bay by his frequent hunts.

Dean didn’t for a second believe that it would be this easy. Sammy was too smart for that, and too intuitive. For now, though, even his belligerent baby brother seemed to be of the notion that a big stink was the last thing they needed. 

John tucked Sammy in that night – something he rarely did – and then he turned to Dean. “Help me get some stuff from the car,” he murmured.

Dean gulped, but nodded. 

Stepping outside into the cold had him shiver and it was with some serious hesitation that he approached his Dad, who had opened the trunk of the Impala and was just standing there, hands resting on the frame of the car, head lowered. “I don’t hate you, Dean,” was the first thing his Dad said to him ever since his talk with Bobby.

Dean squeezed his eyes shut. He could practically feel the ‘but’ coming. 

“I just don’t understand. For years I’ve been telling you about the dangers of playing around with things you don’t understand.” The words were heavy with disappointment and a sort of helplessness that Dean could relate to all too well.

“I’m sorry.” His voice sounded strange, even to himself. He meant it with all his heart, but the tone was all wrong. In this moment, Dean decided that the time for apologies was past – the only thing he could do now was make the best of the situation. “I really am, Dad,” he continued, “but I can’t change it now. It was a dumb mistake, a rookie one.” It pained him to admit that, but it was true. “I would do anything to protect Sammy, you know that. Right now, though, we both need help, and we need our father.” His voice broke. “We need you, Dad. _I_ need you. I’m so scared…” Hot tears overwhelmed him and his throat closed up as he stared at the unmoving figure of his father.

He sobbed in despair, feeling utterly alone. Blindly, he turned away, almost sick with the pain of the rejection. He almost made it to the door before two strong arms caught him around the middle. Unceremoniously, he was turned and cradled against his Dad’s strong chest as if he was five instead of twelve. 

Dean shook with sobs as he tried to climb into his Dad’s skin. He must have sounded even worse than he thought, because John actually tried to make soothing sounds as he held Dean, pressing gentle kisses to his temple. It felt so good that Dean was loathe to give it up. 

Finally though, his Dad pulled back. He kept one arm around Dean’s waist and with the other, he wiped away the tears from his frozen cheeks. “Don’t ever doubt that I love you, Dean,” he rumbled, and something within Dean relaxed. “I know I put a lot of pressure on you, and sometimes I wish…” He trailed off and shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. Right now, what’s important is that we fix—“ he grimaced, “—whatever this is.”

“Yeah,” Dean breathed, sniffing softly. “I know.” He felt lighter than he had in years. Maybe it was because his whole life, he’d been afraid of being a failure and as a result, losing his Dad’s love. Well, he thought wryly, if this didn’t do it, then nothing will. 

Years later, he would think about this moment, sure that he’d jinxed himself. 

 

\---**---

 

Two days later, Bobby banged against their door. He had called to let them know he was coming, which was the only reason why he didn’t get a belly full of shotgun pellets for his trouble. Apparently, he had managed to find a way to deal with their unwitting soulbond.

“It’s not going to go away,” he’d said on the phone, his voice tinny from the way John held the receiver so both of them could hear. “Not ever. Sam and Dean are connected on a level that would make it potentially life-threatening for them to be separated.” 

Dean’s hands had clenched into fists and he’d stared at the ground. 

“But,” Bobby continued and hope flared in his chest. “I may have found a way to manage it, temper the spell into something more manageable and less, uh,” he seemed to search for the right word and finally settled on “exciting.”

Dean carefully hadn't met his father’s eyes. 

“Alright,” Bobby grunted now, lugging a heavy-looking duffel bag inside. “Let’s do this.” He waved away offers of coffee and leftover pizza and went right down to work. 

The ritual itself was fairly simple, just like the one Dean had unwittingly performed. He and Sam didn’t even have to be in the same room for it to work, although each of them had to spit into a small bowl and take a sip of the concoction.

“Ew,” Sammy said as Bobby explained this step, and Dean barely held back a very inappropriate comment about the two of them sharing way more than spit. All in all, it didn’t even take half an hour. 

When it was over, Dean frowned. He didn’t feel any different than before. “Are you sure it worked?”

Bobby threw him an exasperated scowl. “Of course I’m not sure. I basically had to make up a spell of my own - I’m not even sure you two qualify as ‘unawakened’ anymore, so don’t ya sass me, boy.”

Chastised, Dean looked at the ground. “Sorry, Bobby,” he murmured and gave a snickering Sam a light punch in the shoulder. 

It took a few days for them to be sure that Bobby’s amendment ritual had actually worked. It wasn’t like before, when the two of them had only been brothers, but at least they could be around each other without something untoward happening between them. 

Dean still felt a strange pull towards Sammy and didn’t like being apart from him for too long a time, and Sammy more often than not crawled into his bed at night. They only cuddled, though, so Dean accepted the change without too much fuss. 

For a while, things were normal. Or, as normal as their life ever got anyway. Their Dad went back to hunting and Dean didn’t even chafe too much at being left behind. If anything good had come out of this whole mess, it was that he no longer saw Sammy as a burden. Things definitely were starting to look up when they moved again, and Dean was allowed to salt and burn his first corpse. 

And then, just as he was about to let down his guard, Sammy started to get sick in the mornings. 

It was gradual enough that Dean almost missed it, but when Sam opted to skip breakfast on a regular basis, all his internal alarm bells went off. Sammy always was fine by lunchtime, and didn’t seem to be bothered much by the whole thing, but the regularity of these bouts of sickness worried Dean. 

He started to watch his brother more closely, taking note of everything that could indicate what he was so very afraid of. He had read up on symptoms, knowing that it was on him to make sure that Sammy would get help should the unthinkable have happened.

He catalogued everything about Sammy’s body, especially at bath-time, and to his utter horror, about four weeks after Bobby had left, he detected a slight swell in Sammy’s belly. It was barely a hint of growth, but on Sam’s young and slender form, it was noticeable.

That night, Dean held on to Sammy as if he was drowning and his brother was his life-vest. If Sam was confused by the odd behavior, he didn’t let it show, he just let himself be manhandled, as pliant as he ever was.

Dean breathed him in, his hands roaming over Sammy’s slender body until they came to rest on his lower belly. It was harder than he was used to; just a touch, but evident to someone as intimately familiar with his brother’s body as Dean was.

He waited until Sam’s breathing evened, never stopping the circular motion of his hand, stroking that tell-tale swell where deep inside his brother’s body, their child was growing. Of course, he didn’t actually know that. But there was no doubt in him that Sammy actually was pregnant. He just knew. 

And so he soothed his brother to sleep and then he slipped out of bed. He was thankful that their Dad was on another hunt and probably wouldn’t be back for another day at least. He knew Bobby’s number by heart.

It barely rang before Bobby answered. “This better be important.”

Dean took a deep breath. “It’s me.”

Bobby groaned. “Dean. I’m not sure I want to know.”

Dean couldn’t have agreed more. “It’s Sammy. I—I think…” he stumbled over the words, looking back to check that his brother was still asleep. “I think he’s pregnant.”

“Jesus fucking Christ. “ Bobby cursed some more. Dean listened intently, filing some of the inventive slurs ways for future reference. 

He felt strangely disconnected from what was going on. By mutual agreement, he and Bobby had left out the possibility of this happening when they told John about what Dean had done, but that also meant that once again, Dean was pretty much alone with a situation that went way over his head. 

“Okay, Deano, here’s what we’ll do.” And Bobby went on to explain the contingency plan he’d prepared for, just in case. 

Dean’s eyes grew wide as he listened. “So it’s a stasis spell?”

He could practically hear Bobby’s frown. “Oversimplified, but yes. It’ll stop the baby from developing, at least for a few years.”

“Okay,” Dean nodded, a little bit of the sick feeling in his stomach lessening. 

“Just so that we’re on the same page, though,” Bobby continued. “This is only a temporary fix. I have no idea how long the stasis will hold, and if it breaks, Sam will have to carry out this baby.”

Dean moaned. “But he’ll die, Bobby. He’s a boy, he’s not supposed to be pregnant.”

“Dean.” Bobby’s voice was grave. “I won’t make any promises I’m not sure I can keep. But we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, alright? For now, our priority has to be to give Sammy a bit more time.”

There was no way he could argue with that. Apparently, magical pregnancies were volatile if tempered with, so trying to abort the baby now would be dangerous for Sam. Even the stasis spell was a risk, at this point.

Sighing deeply, Dean composed himself. “Tell me what to do.”

 

\---**---

 

The spell went without a hitch. Even over the phone, Bobby was an excellent teacher. Sammy never even knew what was being done to him, he slept through the whole thing. This time, there was even something to tell Dean that he’d done it right. The moment he murmured the last word, a golden glow enveloped Sam, and in a rush, went inward. 

Still, Dean couldn’t help but be doubtful. For weeks he watched Sammy like a hawk, looking for any hint of the pregnancy developing. There was none, and gradually, Dean fell back into a routine that resembled his life as it had been Before. 

And if sometimes when they slept in the same bed, Dean’s hand slipped down Sammy’s chest and landed on his brother’s mostly-flat belly, well, nobody would ever know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, that was quick. Thanks to everyone who commented! What did y'all think of my "solution"? :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The stasis broke right after Sam’s thirteenth birthday.

The stasis broke right after Sam’s thirteenth birthday. By then, he had grown from a small, cute boy into a lanky, but still quite cute teenager. Not that Dean would ever say that out loud - he quite liked his balls where they were, thank you very much.

Still quite slender, Sammy was steadily growing and Dean was sure that his brother would end up being even taller than him. He was a good-looking kid, polite, studious and well-behaved, and looking at him, nobody would think that not only did he have a semi-absent, functioning alcoholic as a father, but that he was also magically bonded to his older brother and was carrying his incestuous child in his body since he was seven.

Sometimes even Dean forgot. Never for long, of course, because sooner or later, something would always remind him of the burden he carried. The one that weighed on him daily and made him watch Sammy with a single focus that bordered on obsession. Every year, the fear grew that now would be the moment the stasis spell broke and the child within his little brother would begin to develop.

But Dean chose to see those few hours of ignorance as a gift whenever they occurred. They gifted him with the rare opportunity to just be himself without the added ballast of being responsible for his baby brother and bonded mate.

It wasn’t that he hated his life, per se. At eighteen years old, Dean had made peace with what had happened when they were kids as much as he was able to, and he was glad that Sammy had gotten to do a lot of ‘normal’ kid stuff over the years. It was just that sometimes he couldn’t help but wish that the both of them had had something even close to resembling an ordinary life. If only for the fact that as soon as Bobby’s spell broke, their lives would take a twist for the weird and even the shred of normalcy they had fought so hard for, would be ripped from them.

Even if a tiny, guilty part of Dean couldn’t help but wish for it to happen already. He wasn’t proud of it, but sometimes he wanted back what they had had as kids. He missed the intimacy and Sam’s easy acceptance of his affection just as much as he did the mind-blowing orgasms.

For years, Dean had watched his baby brother struggle with the rules and regulations their unusual lifestyle demanded, unable to provide more than a sounding board for the struggling teen. What he’d wanted most of all was to take Sam into his arms and kiss him until that stressed little frown went away. But that was out of the question, even if Sam did remember what they used to share. 

Dean had never found out if Sammy’s partial amnesia had been the result of trauma, or an unexpected side effect of Bobby’s stasis spell. He secretly hoped for the latter, feeling sick at the thought that he had traumatized his baby brother into forgetting their bond.

Still, by day he may have no idea, but at night, Sam would dream about him. “Dean,” he’d murmur, writhing underneath those thin motel blankets and his moans and sighs were enough to harden Dean to the point of pain. More than once over the years, his hand had crept inside his boxers to touch himself to the soundtrack of Sammy’s dreams. 

Without fail, they would come together, their soft cries of completion mingling in the darkness, and for a few precious seconds, Dean would feel whole. But the feeling faded as fast as the sexual high did, and afterwards he would lay in his lonely bed and fight against the urge to climb in with his brother, to hold him tight and find peace again in his wonderful body.

Over the years, he had had a lot of sex. He had fucked men and women in equal measures, had lost every virginity he could think of by the age of fifteen, but nothing had ever felt the way it had when he’d been with Sammy those few times. 

The memories of those encounters haunted him, and even when he was buried balls-deep in a soft, warm pussy, all he could think of was a tight ass and huge hazel eyes shining with need. More than once, Sam’s name would spill from his lips at the height of ecstasy and he took to telling his one-night-stands that it was an Ex he wasn’t quite over yet. Which was a lot more true than he wanted to admit.

And so he lived his life as a mere shadow of what he could be, watching his brother grow up, worrying about his Dad and filling his empty life with pies and pussy.

 

\---**---

 

It was a Tuesday about a week after his brother’s thirteenth birthday, when he found Sam crying in the bathroom. 

“Um.” he said.

“Go ‘way, Dean.” Sammy had hunched himself into the dry tub - a rare treat in motel rooms - and was staring at the cracked porcelain, tears running down his face.

“The hell I am,” he grunted and sat on the rim of the tub. “Spill, Sammy, or I’ll have to force it out of you.”

Sam didn’t move. “Don’t call me that,” he murmured and rubbed the back of his hand over his eyes. “And it’s none of your business, okay?”

“Nope, not okay.” Dean got comfortable. “If it’s enough to make you, Mr. I’m-Too-Old-For-Nicknames-And-Don’t-You-Dare-Help-Me-With-Anything, cry? Then it’s a biggy alright and as your older brother it’s my job to either shoot it or beat it up, depending.”

Sammy sighed and curled up even tighter. “Please, Dean,” he whimpered. “Just, let it go? I really don’t want to talk about it. Especially with you.”

It was ridiculous how much that hurt. “Tough luck, kiddo, cause I’m all you got,” he murmured, and some of what he was feeling must have shown in his voice, because Sammy glanced at him then. 

There was a moment of indecision, and then Sammy slowly sat up. “I think there’s something really wrong with me,” he murmured finally.

Dean froze. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Sam gave an embarrassed shrug. “I’m thirteen years old, and the only time I get, y’know, hard,” he blushed crimson, “is when I think of that one person.”

Dean felt his heart clench in his chest. This was it, the moment when their bond would finally break for good. “Yeah, uh,” he murmured. “That’s normal though. So you like someone, good for you. Doesn’t mean anything’s wrong.”

Sam gave him a wide-eyed look. “But isn’t it, like, strange, that it only ever happens when I think of that one person? I mean, not even porn does it for me.”

Dean frowned, but smiled crookedly. “You’ve always been kind of intense, Sammy. To me it makes sense that you would bring the whole crush thing to a whole new level.” He looked around the dingy bathroom. “So who’s the lucky lady?” he asked casually.

“Guy, actually,” Sam said, and then snapped his mouth shut. “Err--“ he started to say, but Dean interrupted him smoothly.

“Guy then.” He met Sam’s gaze steadily. After all, it didn’t matter to him one bit which gender the person was that was about to rip his heart from his chest.

Sam searched his face, and then he took a deep breath. “It’s not any guy either” he murmured, barely loud enough for Dean to hear. “It’s- it’s… it’s you, Dean.”

A jolt went through him at those words. Dean sat there, totally stunned, staring at his brother as if seeing him for the first time. 

Sam looked completely terrified. He had hunched into himself, arms coming up in a sort of warding gesture, as if he was preparing for a physical attack. “You don’t have to say anything,” he whispered. “We’ll just forget it, okay?” There was a wet sheen in his eyes now, and Dean realized that he had been sitting there like a total moron.

Moving slowly, as if approaching a wild animal, Dean took a hold of Sammy and pulled him out of the tub until they stood in front of each other. He chose not to notice how Sam’s gaze flickered down to his hands to make sure that they weren’t balled into fists.

“You know,” Dean murmured as he stepped closer. “I’m very glad you told me that.”

Sam’s eyes grew even bigger. “And why’s that?” he breathed.

Dean grinned. “Because I feel the same way about you.”

Sam’s mouth fell open, and Dean swooped in. It was their first kiss all over again - eager enthusiasm coupled with the soul-deep relief of it _finally_ repeating. They didn’t come up for air for a long time.

“God, I want you,” Dean murmured against his brother’s wet mouth, cradling Sam’s face in his hands. “It’s been so long…” Dean felt like he was on fire. He groaned into Sam’s skin as his lips wandered lower crowding Sam against the wall as desire swept through him. 

Sam made a confused little sound that morphed into a desperate moan as Dean sank to his knees and mouthed at his swollen crotch. “Oh,” Sam panted, his head falling back against the wall. “Oh, god, Dean, please!”

Dean grinned against the denim of Sammy’s jeans and made quick work of getting rid of them. The moment his lips touched his brother’s hard cock would forever be etched into his memory. The silken feel of it, the tangy, bitter taste exploding on his tongue and the desperate, aroused little sounds Sam made as he sucked him were enough to have him leaking into his pants.

He quickly found out that a little tongue-in-slit action drove Sammy wild, and even before he was really ready for it, his brother uttered a deep, broken sound and his cock twitched, spewing come into his mouth. Dean spluttered a bit, surprised by the amount of it, and Sam gasped out, “sorry, uh, fuck, ‘m sorry” even as he still shuddered through his orgasm.

Dean swallowed what he could and caught the rest in his hand. While Sammy was still distracted, he let his come-soaked fingers wander over and behind his balls until they encountered that small bit of puckered skin he had dreamed about for years. He was breathing hard as he let his fingertips trace the rim of Sammy’s hole. When it twitched underneath his touch, he carefully pushed the tip of his index finger into that familiar tight heat.

Sam let out a shuddering breath then and spread his legs to give Dean more room. Unbelievably turned on, Dean finger-fucked his brother until Sam moved with him, his teenaged cock already hard again.

Finally, he pulled back and looked up. “I’m gonna fuck you know,” he growled, mind hazy with desire, just as it had been all those years ago.

Sam gave a whimpery moan and his cock twitched in front of Dean’s face. “Yeah,” he breathed. “Oh, please… Dean…”

Somehow they made it to the bed. Dean pushed Sammy onto his bed and crawled in between his legs. He panted open-mouthed as he ripped his pants open to free himself, and then he was pressing the tip of his cock against that puckered ring of muscles. 

When he slipped inside that fantastic heat, Dean’s eyes rolled back into his head and he groaned from deep in his throat. “Ah, fuck,” he grunted, pushing deeper still. 

Sam panted underneath him, face flushed, cock hard and leaking, and looking almost drunk on these new feelings. In his breathless, “oh, Dean”, he heard an echo of the boy he used to be, and Dean throbbed with the ecstasy of it all. Finally, that tiny part inside him whispered. Finally.

That first time, he came after three hurried thrusts, crying out and throwing his head back as he exploded within his bonded’s tight body. Sammy followed him into bliss with a broken moan, coming untouched, and even before Dean’s cock had a chance to slip out of the tight channel, he grew hard again. He started thrusting, groaning out words of love and lust until they moved together in unison, their moans and the soft slaps of skin on skin filling the cheap motel room.

When they fell asleep hours later, Dean was so deliriously happy, he just basked in the feeling. It was a novel one for him and for once in his life, he didn’t even care about any consequences coming from having his brother back in his bed.

It was only natural that things went to crap right away.

 

\---**---

 

The next morning, Dean was rudely awakened by an elbow in the side. He oofed, and rolled onto his back. “Wha’zit?” He mumbled.

Tearing from his arms, Sam stumbled into the bedroom and just barely made it to the toilet before violently throwing up. Lying there, listening to his brother yacking, Dean felt a familiar feeling of dread rising in his gut. Because now that his mind wasn’t hazy with sex, he could distinctly remember seeing a flash of golden light surrounding Sammy the moment he had spilled his load inside him that first time last night.

And just like he’d known that Sammy was pregnant in the first place, he now knew that the renewal of their bond had shattered the fragile spell Bobby had woven almost six years ago. Fear grew in him, even as that particular small part of him was proud and even a little smug at impregnating his young lover and couldn’t wait for it to be visible to the world.

Just as he was about to check on Sammy, he heard his brother brush his teeth. A few moments later, he came back and slipped into the bed with Dean as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

Dean opened his arms and pulled his brother close. “You okay?” he murmured softly.

“Yeah.” Sam pressed his chilled nose into his throat. “I don’t even know what that was. I feel totally fine now. Hey, remember when I had the same thing as a kid?”

Dean froze.

Oblivious, Sam continued. “I would get sick in the morning, and then it would just go away again. That was right after we started sleeping together the first time…” as Sam’s voice trailed off, Dean held his breath. He could practically feel the memories flooding back into Sammy’s mind.

“Oh,” he finally whispered and pulled back a bit to look at Dean. He had a tiny confused frown on his face that made him look younger than thirteen. “Dean? Something happened back then, didn’t it? Something that made us like this?” He gestured between them.

Dean sighed, but nodded. There was no wiggle room anymore, he had to tell Sammy the truth. “Yeah. It was an accident and I totally didn’t mean for it to happen--“

Sam didn’t let him continue. “It’s okay, Dee,” he interrupted. “I don’t even care, really. The two of us, we’ve always been special, you know. It kind of makes sense for us to be different, and who better be different with that with each other, right?”

Stunned, Dean stared at Sam. “Um,” he said then. “Right.” He couldn’t quite believe that it was so easy. Sam the total skeptic being so accepting of their forced bond was atypical and Dean couldn’t shake the feeling that it was the spell at work again. The thought sickened him. What if Sammy wasn’t even in control of his own feelings anymore? What if there was really nothing between them but a few words of magic?

And then there was the whole pregnancy thing. Dean just couldn’t bring himself to tell Sammy about that right at this moment, not when he had just gotten his bonded back. For these few precious hours, he wanted to just be with Sammy and not think about anything else.

Later, he would call Bobby and let him know that he and Sammy where on their way. It was something that they had worked out years before, a plan that ensured both Sammy’s and Dean’s safety. Because God only knew what John would do if he ever got his hands on Dean after he found out that he had gotten his own baby brother pregnant. 

He knew that as soon as he got up and faced the day, everything would change, but for now, the only thing he could think to do was to pull his brother into his arms and hold him tight. And as it often had over the years, his hand slipped down and he laid his palm over Sammy’s belly, feeling the barely-there swell of their child finally growing inside him. For the first time in six years, Dean was content.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's mpreg time!^^ What do you guys think, more magic or no?


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean felt sick. “So what you’re saying is that I have to choose between my brother and my child?”
> 
> “No.” Bobby met his gaze without flinching. “What I’m saying is, is that there is no choice here, Dean. You will lose them both if we let this continue.”

Bobby sounded distracted when Dean called him later that same day. He and Sammy had napped through the morning, basking in their closeness and lazily making love when the mood struck. 

Sammy was calmer than Dean had ever seen him, and it was almost as if being close to Dean leeched away any residual teenage angst in him. 

Under Dean’s careful ministrations, Sam’s mind and body both opened to him beautifully, and when Dean finally slipped from the bed just as the weak afternoon sun reached their pillows, he left behind a weak-limbed, soft-eyed and overall well-loved Sammy. 

After taking a quick shower, Dean walked back into the room with only a towel slung around his waist. Sam had fallen asleep in the meantime, sprawled all over the bed. The covers had slipped down to his waist, revealing him to Dean’s hungry gaze. 

It was amazing to him that a scrawny teenager could elicit such lust in him, but there it was. Already, his sex was growing tender and heavy underneath the soft cotton, and it took a lot of willpower for Dean to turn away from his brother’s enticing form.

Instead, he grabbed the phone and dialed Bobby’s number. Even though the older man picked up after only two rings, his “hm” and “uh-huh’s” didn’t much to convince Dean that he was picking up on the code words they had agreed upon years ago.

“Bobby,” Dean grunted finally, turning away from Sam. “It’s happened. Sammy and I need to take a _vacation_.”

There was a moment of silence, and then Bobby was all there. “Understood. Where you at?”

“Uh.” Dean actually had to think about that. “Nebraska, I think.”

Bobby grunted. “Your Dad around?”

Dean cleared his throat. “Nope,” he answered. “Left us enough money to last a couple of weeks. He’s been gone for five days now.”

“At least we’ve got some time then.” Bobby was shuffling papers around. The sound was oddly sharp in Dean’s ear. “Think you can get him here?” It was hardly even a question.

“Of course.” Dean had done way more difficult things than get bus tickets for him and Sam, even if it meant sneaking away without leaving too many clues. It was naïve to believe that John wouldn’t find them, but Dean knew that every day they could carve out was one day longer to come up with a plan. 

And they would need a plan to handle the whole situation. The dreaded ball of lead had manifested itself in his stomach again whenever he thought about what lay ahead, but for the moment, he could concentrate on what he needed to do right now. 

Getting himself and Sam to Bobby’s was hardly a problem, what would be harder to accomplish though was to hide the real reason for the trip from Sammy. Deciding to spin the ‘oops we accidentally bonded and Dad can’t know’ angle, Dean turned his attention back to Bobby. “Did you find anything that’ll help?” he didn’t need to specify what he meant.

Bobby gave an angry little grunt. “Not a thing. I’m still waiting on a delivery from Jim and I’m hoping that there’ll be something in them old tomes of his.” 

“Sounds promising.” Dean felt the sick feeling recede a bit.

“Don’t get your hopes up yet, boy,” Bobby said grumpily. “The only mention of anything like this happen before…” he hesitated, “well, let’s just say it doesn’t end well.”

Dean glanced over at the bed, where Sammy still lay undisturbed. He took a deep, fortifying breath. “Tell me,” he croaked. 

Bobby sighed. “It’s little more than a fairytale, Dean, so keep that in mind. Story goes that two young boys, best friends, stumbled upon a spell that bonded them together, making them one in mind and spirit. Their love grew with each passing day, and finally, it resulted in the younger one’s belly growing with child.”

Dean’s heart thumped hard in his chest. “What happened then?”

“The boy died.” Bobby sounded grim. “He died in agony, sometime during the pregnancy. The other one didn’t survive him for long, but the source doesn’t say if that was because of the severed bond or because of, uh, other reasons.”

Suicide, Dean deduced, strangely sure that that was what had happened. “Does it say how the younger boy died?”

Bobby grumbled. “No. But my gut says it had to do with him trying to carry a child in his very much ill-equipped body.”

Dean didn’t answer. He was torn between the logic of what Bobby was saying and his own strange feeling that Sammy would be able to do what nobody had done before. If anyone was strong enough to pull off a male pregnancy, it was Sam. “I’ll let you know when we will be there as soon as I have the tickets,” he said finally.

“Yeah.” Bobby’s voice gentled. “We’ll take care of him, Deano.”

Dean’s throat closed and he had to hang up before he embarrassed himself. He started packing right away, and when Sam woke a little bit later, they were basically ready to go. Thankfully, it didn’t take much to convince his baby brother to stay at Bobby’s for a while and only a few hours after the pone call, they boarded a bus to Sioux Falls. 

 

\---**---

 

It took four days for their Dad to notice they were gone. Dean was well aware that they were living on borrowed time, and that sooner rather than later, he would have to deal with their situation - and their father. But for those first couple of days, being at Bobby’s actually felt like the vacation they proclaimed it to be. 

For all his gruffness, Bobby was a great host. He cooked them breakfast and dinner, provided them with everything they needed, and even made sure to give them some space - mostly cause, as he put it, “what I don’t hear, I can’t get weirded out by”.

And there was a lot going on for Bobby to potentially get weirded out by. The two of them fucked like bunnies, which was mostly due to the fact that Dean was eternally turned on by his brother now, even if Sammy didn’t do anything other than _exist_. Of course, the fact that he was disgustingly proud of having put a child inside Sam didn’t help.

Since Sammy had been already about five weeks along when they’d stopped the pregnancy from progressing, and with him being so skinny, it didn’t take long for it to actively show. 

Rather than look alien, though, the gentle swell accentuated Sam’s slender build in a very distracting way. Dean would watch his brother greedily whenever he had the chance, loving this visible proof of his claim over Sam. He even shrank some of his T-Shirts on purpose, so that they were a bit snug and clung to the slightly distended belly in a delicious way that both made his heart swell and his cock harden. 

More often than not, he would frot against Sam and come that way, shooting streaks of white on his brother’s smooth, lightly tanned skin. His brother didn’t protest, but to be fair, the way Sammy’s sex drive was going through the roof, he probably would protest nothing having to do with getting off. Their renewed relationship was a revelation to them both, and if it weren’t for the sword of Damocles hanging over them, Dean would have been genuinely happy.

Through it all, Sammy was oblivious to anything being amiss. He seemed to almost actively ignore anything having to do with the pregnancy. Even as he once again battled morning sickness and fatigue, he still had no idea about the changes he was going through. He even made jokes about their Dad putting him through the ringer for the fact that he was sick so much. 

“He’d make me go an extra mile, just because,” he grinned when he had to stop halfway into their morning run to catch his breath.   
Dean had to agree, even as he put an arm around his brother’s waist and walked him back to the house. 

After Sam had gone to lie down a bit, Dean sat in the living room, cleaning his guns. 

“You have to tell him. Soon.”

Dean shrugged. “Yeah,” he murmured, his words dripping with sarcasm. ”I’ve been putting it off, since I wanted to tell him something other than: oh hey, I knocked you up with my super-sperm and now we have no idea if you’re gonna die or not.”

Bobby grimaced and sat down across from him. “It’s not fair to keep it from him.”

“And what the hell is fair about the whole thing, huh, Bobby?” he exploded. “We can’t even be around our own Dad because he will probably shoot and ask questions later.”

“He won’t do that.” But even Bobby didn’t sound so sure.

“I’d rather not take the risk,” Dean grumbled. “I like my balls where they are.”

“Dad won’t shoot your balls off,” Sammy suddenly said from behind him. “He’ll aim for your butt. Less permanent damage that way, but just as painful. “

“Sammy…” Dean had no idea what to say, especially not since he didn’t know how much of their conversation he had overheard. 

“It’s alright, Dean,” Sam continued, coming fully into the room. He placed himself in Dean’s lap, snuggling into his brother like a baby kitten, completely ignoring Bobby. “I know Dad won’t like the whole bonding thing much, and if you don’t want to tell him yet, I understand. But it’s not like he can do anything about it, you know? If he casts you out, he does me as well. Nothing will ever come between us.”

Dean gulped. He could practically feel Bobby’s gaze upon him, accusing and challenging. Ignoring his surrogate father for the moment, Dean pulled Sam closer. “You sure about that?” he murmured, quietly, barely loud enough for Sam to hear. 

His brother snaked his arms around him and squeezed them. “I love you,” he murmured. “And not even Dad will ever change that.”

“No.” Dean had no doubts about that. “But I might.”

When Sammy pulled back a little to look at him, Dean began to speak. He absently noted Bobby leaving the room, and a moment later, the roar of his truck. He was glad for the privacy as he told Sam everything, starting with that fateful day he had spoken the spell, about the improbable pregnancy and the resulting stasis spell.

As they reached that point, Sammy went pale, and Dean had never seen him so scared. 

But then, his whole demeanor changed and as a tender smile began to play around his lips, he laid a hand on his lower belly. His eyes went distant as he breathed, “Our baby…” and gave him a beatific smile.

Dean felt instant arousal curl in his gut. He moaned under his breath and pulled his overjoyed brother close, kissing him hard and deep until Sammy was a mewling, panting mass that clung to him and was completely in his thrall. 

Dean loved it when Sammy got like this, all heavy-lidded and pliable, and he took his brother right there in Bobby’s living-room, fucking him into a howling orgasm that left the boy trembling and barely-conscious, breathing broken words of adoration.

Dean was still buried balls-deep inside him, and despite his blissful weakness, Sam held on to him tight. “I love you,” he panted into Dean’s ear, gasping at the full thrusts into his sensitized body. “And I love our baby--so much. Gonna be beautiful… Oh, Dean…”

Dean’s orgasm ripped through him to the sweet words of his brother’s devotion and he came so hard, he saw stars. And after he’d once again spilled deep inside him and had softened enough to slip out, he bent down and pressed open-mouthed kisses to Sam’s slightly curved abdomen.

When he glanced up, Sam was watching him. “I can’t believe you impregnated me when I was seven,” he murmured, making Dean freeze. “That’s so weird. But I kind of love knowing that it’s been inside me all this time, you know? My own little piece of you.” He sighed dreamily. “A baby, Dean. It’s gonna be adorable!”

Dean grinned. “I bet it’ll get your floppy hair.”

“Dean…” Sammy whined, but he was blushing and smiling down at him, looking for all the world like a kid at Christmas morning. 

Of course, it was then that the phone rang. For some reason, Dean knew right away that it was John and from the way Sammy tensed in his arms, he knew it, too. “I guess we can’t just ignore him, can we?” he murmured, even as he climbed off Dean’s lap, still dripping his come.

Dean grimaced, even as he interestedly watched the thick globs run down his brother’s long legs, the sight making him twitch despite his recent orgasm. “Not if we want Bobby’s place to stay intact,” he murmured finally and stuffed his half-hard cock back inside his pants, sighing with regret.

Steeling himself for what he was sure would be a harrowing talk, Dean walked over to the phone and picked up. “Bobby’s place.”

“Dean.” John sounded grim. “I hope you have a good explanation for taking off like that.”

“Yeah,” Dean answered, just as serious. “I do at that.”

“Care to share?”

Dean rubbed a hand over his face. His Dad sounded almost curious, if it weren’t for the sharp undertone to his words. “Bobby’s spell broke,” he answered, going for matter-of-fact. 

There was a beat of silence. “So the bond…?”

“Is still very much intact.” It was the most tactful way Dean could come up with to paraphrase their intimate relations.

“I’ll be in Sioux Falls in two days.”

“Dad…” Dean took a deep breath. This was the hard part - if he wanted to keep the pregnancy from John, he had to stay away. “Look, Bobby and I are working on a plan. It doesn’t make any sense for you to come here.”

John huffed. “You are my sons, of course I’m coming.”

Despite everything, Dean was touched. It wasn’t often that the older Winchester’s paternal side showed itself so blatantly. Which was why he almost regretted his next words. “It’s not like you can find help us,” he said. “If there’s anything in the books, Bobby and I will find it.”

Again, there was silence on the other end, and then John grunted, “Sammy alright?”

“As alright as he can be,” Dean murmured. “I’m taking care of him. Not like I have any choice, really.”

“I guess.” His Dad heaved a sigh. “Let me know if anything changes, and if you need any help--“

“We will let you know. Where’re you headed next?”

“Wolf Point, Montana. Sounds like a family of poltergeists.”

Dean nodded, even though his Dad couldn’t see it. “Watch your back,” he said, lowly. 

“Look after your brother.”

Before Dean could give an answer, John had hung up. “That was almost too easy,” he mumbled as he put down the receiver. For once, though, he decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth and just accepted it as a bit of good luck. They could really use some.

 

\---**---

 

After almost three weeks at Bobby’s, they were at their wits end. They had checked every spellbook, had gone over every hint twice and still they were not even a little bit closer to knowing what would happen to Sam during the pregnancy. 

“We can’t put it off any longer,” Bobby finally said, falling back into his chair with an exhausted grunt. “Every day that passes, the danger grows.”

Dean was well-aware of what Bobby was implying, but it was too horrifying an idea for him to really comprehend. “It’s not like we can just make it go away.”

“We can,” Bobby said quietly, “with this.” He held up a spell they’d found, an incantation that had been developed by a medieval midwife, used for safe abortions. It was old, and supposedly powerful enough even to end a magical pregnancy. 

Dean’s heart splintered in his chest. “No,” he moaned, turning way from his surrogate father.

“There’s no other way.” Bobby gruff voice was full of pain. “I honestly don’t know what will happen to Sam if we let this pregnancy progress. For all we know, he’ll die because of it.”

Dean felt sick. “So what you’re saying is that I have to choose between my brother and my child?”

“No.” Bobby met his gaze without flinching. “What I’m saying is, is that there is no choice here, Dean. You will lose them both if we let this continue.”

“You don’t know that!” Dean yelled and jumped up. “And what if the spell kills him instead?”

“There are no guarantees,” Bobby conceded. “But this is our best bet to save you brother. Think about it, Dean, really think about what you’re willing to risk here.”

Dean turned away, breathing hard. His hands had balled into fists and helpless fury filled him. He hated that underneath all the denial, he already knew what he had to do, even if it broke his heart.

And so, the next day, for the third time in his life, an incantation was spoken over Sammy while he was unaware of it. Dean’s eyes burned as he placed the hex bag under the bed and murmured the words that felt like poison on his tongue.

Just as Dean spoke the last word of the spell, Sam’s eyes snapped open. A guttural cry ripped forth and he curled around his middle, his eyes wide and desperate. “The baby…” he moaned.

Dean’s eyes burned and he gathered his brother in his arms, holding him on his lap like he’d done when they were kids. “It’s alright, Sammy,” he croaked, hating every pained whimper. “It’s alright, I’ve got you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun duuuun... 
> 
> Will Sam lose the baby? If yes, will Dean only be able to save his depressed brother by re-impregnating him? Or will the magic of their bond be stronger than a simple midwife's incantation?
> 
> Let me know what you think :)


End file.
